Sunday, May 6, 2012

Smoke


Margin of the Mind,
The limiting thought
Rushing, pelting
Stormwind hail
The fighting and pleas
Of a back-and-forth storm
Wind fighting material,
Tangible v. intangible
Ding-ding, fight begins,
No punches pulled,
Battering my body amid the gale
Whipping me through the skies,
Blackened by rain and
Clouds of soot
Pulling me through the air
Helplessly,
Until I wither
Away
Into smoke

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